Chapter 33….
“Though his bond with his siblings was strong, the plaintiff, Oh Yoon-sik, has been assisting Lee Kkot-soon with household chores ever since the IMF crisis.”
Throwing away trash, pressing the button on the robot vacuum—like a helper househusband.
Whether because the IMF crisis made him more withdrawn or not, he had no outside activities other than meeting his brothers.
He told me he had acquaintances, but according to the lady, all those ties had been cut off back during the IMF period.
All he did was watch sports on TV at home, take naps, eat, and live idly, distancing himself from society.
“He’s the kind of person who only found out there was even a driver’s license test for the illiterate because he consulted with his lawyer. I’d like the court to recognize that he isn’t the sort of person who looks things up like others do.”
The judge cleared his throat.
It seemed he’d grasped the kind of person Mr. Oh Yoon-sik was.
“Plaintiff, Lee Kkot-soon?”
“Yes, yes.”
“You said the reason you’re representing Oh Yoon-sik is because he’s illiterate, correct?”
“That’s right. My husband is the third of seven siblings. Though he was born the eldest son, back then people believed the eldest should be sold off, or cattle sold, to send him to school. But our family circumstances didn’t allow him to attend even elementary school.”
Even though education was compulsory at the time, it wasn’t unusual for farm children not to attend during the busy season.
And if someone entered school late, they would end up in the same grade as their younger siblings, which was considered disgraceful—so the younger ones would often be held back instead.
Oh Yoon-sik’s case was the same.
‘It’s hard to understand by today’s standards, but that’s how it was back then, as Mother always said.’
“So he started doing odd jobs at an early age, then settled into construction work. He wanted to attend night school, but because the labor was grueling, he missed the opportunity to learn to read.”
“Whatever the study, if you miss the right time, it’s not easy. Plaintiff Lee Kkot-soon, your statement will be taken into consideration.”
The judge’s words didn’t mean it carried legal weight.
But it did leave the impression that Mr. Oh Yoon-sik really was illiterate and a simple man.
The lady sat down looking satisfied at having finished her statement smoothly.
“Attorney Cha Do-hyuk, proceed.”
“Yes.”
It was time for the third piece of evidence, Exhibit A-3.
“The place where the incident occurred was Ye-ji’s Flower Shop in the underground shopping mall at Express Bus Terminal Station. We submit testimony from an eyewitness there, a NewTube video, and the mall’s CCTV.”
It was evidence to refute the claim that the defendant, Oh Yoon-bok, had no intent to hit Oh Ye-ji.
‘If he truly hadn’t meant to, why would he have knocked over the flower basket displayed at Ye-ji’s shop?’
Then Oh Ye-ji appeared, they argued, and Oh Yoon-bok raised his hand.
The weight of evidence was on our side.
“This is one of the main points of contention.”
The judge looked at the defendant.
“I watched the video of defendant Oh Yoon-bok’s assault, and it differs from the defense’s claim. Defense counsel, what do you think?”
“Because the defendant is elderly, there is a time lag between thought and action.”
“No, young lady, that’s not it! Judge, she was cursing at me—her own uncle!—so I lost my temper and my hand went up!”
Attorney Sun clenched his jaw.
‘The defense was still ongoing, but he’s just wrapped things up explosively.’
This is why, truth or lie, consistency was everything. Like us.
“Defendant Oh Yoon-bok.”
The judge, who had seemed affable until now, turned stern.
“The defendant’s rights must be respected, but unpermitted interruptions may result in removal from the courtroom. Do not cause a disturbance.”
“……”
“Defendant Oh Yoon-bok, on December 5, 2023, at 10:40 a.m., you assaulted Oh Ye-ji. Is that correct?”
“…It wasn’t an assault, but… yes, she was hit.”
“Exhibit A-3 is admitted into evidence.”
Though the judge declared it admitted, in truth it became an acknowledged fact by both plaintiff and defendant.
This is what’s called an “undisputed fact,” and even the judge cannot deliver a verdict that contradicts it.
The evidence examination resumed, and I submitted documents summarizing phone calls between Oh Yoon-sik and his brothers, along with additional minor CCTV clips.
After a few questions, the judge repeated that the evidence was admitted.
It was already the sixth piece of evidence.
“On November 29, the defendant Oh Yoon-taek gave the plaintiff Oh Yoon-sik a bouquet of soap flowers. We submit this as evidence.”
The judge suddenly smiled, intrigued.
“I was curious about this. Why submit soap flowers as evidence? Does it mean the plaintiff was sincere about the memorandum since he even accepted a gift?”
In other words, wasn’t this evidence in the defendant’s favor?
That the plaintiff had no grounds to void the agreement.
‘That’s why I submitted the soap flowers separately from the recorder.’
“These soap flowers are from six years ago, a product sold at Lee Kkot-soon’s shop, Ye-ji’s Flowers, given as a graduation gift to defendant Oh Yoon-taek’s child, Oh Soo-ah.”
From the gallery came a gasp: “Huh.”
“Attorney Cha Do-hyuk, soap flowers are manufactured goods. They could be sold at any flower shop. How can you be certain they came from Lee Kkot-soon’s store?”
“These were tied with Ye-ji’s Flowers’ signature ribbon, engraved with the store’s English name. We’ve attached transaction records with the ribbon company.”
‘The judge will surely hypothesize that we just tied on a new ribbon.’
So I also submitted a notice from the ribbon supplier showing they only dealt in bulk orders, arguing that reproducing old ribbons would take significant time and money.
This destroyed the judge’s hypothesis.
And by attaching samples of the current signature ribbon, I showed it was far too different to be mistaken for the old one.
“In addition, we’ve attached the exclusive finished photo supplied to Ye-ji’s Flowers by the soap-flower company, included at the end of Exhibit A-6.”
The judge flipped through the papers and spoke into the mic.
“Confirmed. Exhibit A-6 is admitted. Plaintiff, continue.”
The last piece of evidence, the recorder, would make impact.
“The issue is, on the day the plaintiff signed the memorandum, the youngest, Oh Yoon-taek, brought this bouquet of soap flowers as a gift—inside of which a recorder had been embedded.”
“……!”
“W-what, how did you—!”
Oh Yoon-bok hastily covered his mouth, but his words were now permanently recorded in the clerk’s transcript.
“Defendant Oh Yoon-ja melted open the bottom of the bouquet she received from Oh Yoon-taek at her Gangnam home, inserted the recorder, and illegally recorded the plaintiff Oh Yoon-sik’s lawsuit proceedings.”
“W-what kind of bizarre nonsense is this! There are things one can and can’t say in court!”
“Defendant Oh Yoon-bok, if you interrupt again, instead of removal you’ll be held in contempt (detained for disturbing court order)!”
After warning him, the judge gestured for me to proceed.
“Additionally, we’ve attached purchase records from the brothers’ shared bank account for the recorder, and we’ve requested a fact-finding inquiry on purchases from N-Market by defendant Oh Yoon-ja and the other five.”
If fact-finding confirmed our claims, then it would be acknowledged that the memorandum was signed under the defendants’ deceit.
‘Mr. Oh Yoon-sik has remained consistent. And the contrast between plaintiff and defendants’ attitudes is clear.’
Enough to persuade the judge.
“So you’re requesting a fact-finding inquiry from N-Market? For all defendants?”
“Yes. By checking the purchase date, recipient, and delivery address, this fact can be easily proven.”
Though I’d seen, through psychometry, Oh Yoon-ja opening the delivery package, I couldn’t know under whose ID the purchase was made.
‘If there’s no record, we can track the defendants’ children through a private investigator, so it’s no worry.’
Still, it would be best—precisely, I hoped the buyer was their ringleader, Oh Yoon-ja.
‘If I don’t crush her this time, this will just repeat again.’
Even after drawing up an inheritance division agreement, Oh Yoon-ja had forced the memorandum by invoking inheritance rights, and regardless of this case’s outcome, she might stir up more trouble with the Bupal-eup real estate.
Thus, she had to be blocked at the outset, or this suit would never see the light.
‘It wasn’t for nothing that I made this move.’
After a long pause, the judge switched his mic back on.
“On November 29, did anyone witness either the plaintiff or the defendants at the alley barbecue restaurant?”
The judge was exercising his right of clarification.
That right allows the judge to step outside strict adversarial procedure to request corrections or supplements when a party’s statements are contradictory or vague.
‘He must’ve found our account of the restaurant scene ambiguous. I thought the CCTV would suffice, but he didn’t count it as evidence.’
In court, evidence is categorized into documents, recordings, and testimony.
Though documents are considered strong, judges don’t always rank one type over another.
Some judges see testimony—under oath and cross-examined—as especially objective in clearing doubts.
‘…But not all are testimony-supremacists.’
I didn’t know Judge Moon Yu-jin’s tendencies, but the way he nodded when acknowledging facts showed he wasn’t the type to see everything—he focused carefully on the main issues.
“If there’s a witness who can testify neutrally, it would help. Submit a witness application with personal details, and I’ll review whether to admit them.”
‘As expected.’
“We request as witness Kyung Soo-won, the alley restaurant’s part-timer, who saw Mr. Oh Yoon-sik signing the memorandum.”
Thus ended the plaintiff’s long string of evidence submissions.
“Does the defense have any evidence to submit?”
“…We submit the evidence attached to our answer: Exhibits B-1 and B-2.”
One of these, B-1, was the same phone call recording we’d submitted as A-1.
‘With duplicate evidence, most judges don’t bother. But this judge might, for procedure and authenticity’s sake.’
The judge spoke.
“Defendant, if unnecessary, I may decline to admit this.”
“…Understood.”
Sighing at Attorney Sun’s words, the judge played the November 29 morning call between Oh Yoon-ja and Oh Yoon-sik.
Recording
Oh Yoon-sik: Big sis, what’s going on?
Oh Yoon-ja: Yoon-sik, did you watch KBC news last night?
Oh Yoon-sik: Me, watch the news? Even after the Korean Series, I don’t watch news. I watched the Champions League replay early morning.
[Static crackle]
Oh Yoon-ja: Knew it. Yoon-sik, GTX is going to be built on your Bupal-eup land.
Oh Yoon-sik: …Really?
Oh Yoon-ja: I knew you’d react like this.
Oh Yoon-sik: Thanks for checking, big sis.
Oh Yoon-ja: When you get the mail, bring it to me, I’ll check it.
Oh Yoon-sik: It’s about a thousand pyeong.
Oh Yoon-ja: Really?
[More static]
Oh Yoon-sik: Something wrong?
Oh Yoon-ja: I looked at the inheritance division agreement, but Bupal-eup isn’t listed.
Oh Yoon-sik: Huh? It’s not?
Oh Yoon-sik: Let’s talk over dinner tonight.
Oh Yoon-ja: The land compensation money?
Oh Yoon-sik: Yeah, of course I’ll give it.
Unlike our submitted file, this one was chopped up.
‘Unbelievable.’
The number of pyeong.
The estimated compensation amount.
Any mention of brotherly love, or that family should be cared for regardless of law—all of it cut out.
Listening only to this, one would think Oh Yoon-sik was desperate to hand over compensation to his siblings.
‘If the defendants can’t give a reasonable explanation for submitting this maliciously edited file, it’s practically the same as an implied admission of the plaintiff’s facts.’
The lady clenched her fist, glaring at Oh Yoon-bok on the right.
“Oh Yoon-bok.”
“…I-I didn’t do it.”
Of course it wasn’t him.
He wasn’t even capable of mustering the minimal plausibility to pull off something like this.
